


Soldier, Poet, King

by Useronhiatus



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, And sapnap, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death, Dream Needs A Hug, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, It's in minecraft, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Character Death, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rated T for swearing, They all need hugs, dont worry, fantasy au?, george too, mild mentions of violence and blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:14:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28027593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Useronhiatus/pseuds/Useronhiatus
Summary: The dreamteam begin having these weird flashbacks, and after finding some interesting artifacts, they realize there's a lot about themselves they don't know.Inspired and semi-based on the song "Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Might be a future relationship, No Romantic Relationship(s), Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Comments: 7
Kudos: 46





	1. Lost Soldier

**Author's Note:**

> Just a note:  
> I do not ship anyone in real life, and i will remove this story if any of the cc in it explicitetly say so. I am writing this because i personally want to, and i would appreciate it if you didn't share this with the cc themselves.
> 
> If you are not comfortable with reading this because it has real people in it, then i ask you to please click out of it, and just ignore it. No one gets anything good out of hating and writing mean words.
> 
> That's all, and i hope those of you that stay enjoy :]

The patter of rain resounded throughout the whole room, the trees barely stopping the raindrops from hammering down on the roof below. Coldness flew through the windows that weren’t sealed properly and swooped under the floorboards onto the bare feet that lay bare on the ground. A feeble crying could be heard from the corner, harsh breaths sounding forced and tired rang out through the small room.

A soft hand touched upon the writhing body of a woman, her face screwed in discomfort and pain. The hand came from a man, looking stoic yet kind, his eyes screaming concern as he looked at the woman, his mouth tucked into a thin line. A cry escaped the woman, louder and more painfilled than the other cries, her breath stuttering as the tears ran down her face.

The man besides her began humming a quiet tune in a last-ditch effort to calm the woman, his voice was rough, but it was smooth at the edges, his voice filtered through the small room, claiming dominance over the loud sound of the rain outside from them.

The woman’s cries and stuttered breaths were the only other sound in the room, her voice going hoarse and dry as she continued to scream and moan in pain. The man held her hand in his in a vicelike grip, not once wincing when the woman grabbed and squeezed too tightly.

Soft crying filled the room, but not from the woman’s mouth, no, it came from the small body that was now at the bottom of the lady. The small child was screaming, not used to the feeling of air filling its lungs.

Dark brown hair, almost black in its current wetness, filled the small bodies head. The child looked frail and fragile, almost like it would break with the wrong touch. The child’s eyes where black, seemingly endless, and the way the shine of the torch on the wall reflected made it look like a fire was burning inside it. Reds and yellows danced in the eyes, looking strong and fierce, where the body was frail and weak.

The cries of the child filled the room as the woman laid down, gathering the small body in her arms as she finally calmed down. There was a lingering pain for her, but the need to take care of the child overtook her, her body choosing to ignore the pain at the moment. A sigh came from her lips as she looked at the child, her head drenched in sweat from the harsh task of giving birth.

The man at her side had moved closer, moving so that he could look at the child, a warm smile replacing the earlier tight frown on his face. A chuckle got ripped out of him when the child looked him in the eyes and stopped screaming, a look of pure curiosity taking over the child’s features.

“Hmm, what should we call you small one?” The man asked, looking at the woman as she chuckled along with him, her black hair bouncing with her small bodily chuckles.

“What about Sapnap? I think our ancestors would approve,” the lady spoke, her voice soft and lovely, quiet as she looked at the bundle in her arms. The man at her side hummed, an approving hum as he moved closer once again to take the woman in his arms, letting her rest against his chest as he laid his head on hers.

“I believe that to be a perfect name, darling,” the man spoke, his voice having gone quiet as he saw the child slowly falling down the road of sleep, it being exhausted from its little escapade out of the mother. A calm silence fell over the small family, the only sound heard was the breaths of them, and the rain that still hammered down on the small roof above their heads.

Time seemed to slowly pass by as the family fell asleep, their bodies staying close and the beating of their hearts calming them all.

||

Life with a family is easy, you have a father that brings food for the table each night and morning, a mother who helps you mend your clothes when you play a little to roughly with the dog, and a warm bed was always presented to him when he was tired and exhausted after a long day of training.

Sapnap couldn’t wish for a better family, but he could instead wish for his family to be safe.

He wishes he had done that as he sees the monsters swarm around their small house in the middle of the forest. Their torches had been blown out by the strong winds, the fire dying at the force of it and the sticks flying away. They had no light to scare of the mobs, their only hope was to barricade the house, and hope for day and morning to arrive soon.

But Sapnap realized with a sense of dread that morning wouldn’t be here in multiple hours, and he realized with fear that their barricade wouldn’t be able to hold that long.

His father must have realized the same thing, for he took the sword that hung on the wall, and grabbed his coat near the door, before turning to his mother and him, a grim looking expression on his face. His mother could do nothing more than look on as his father opened the door and immediately attacked the monsters that were gathered outside their house.

His mother screamed besides him, her face contorted in fear as she looked after her husband, her husband who was fighting way more than he could, and she realized at the same time as Sapnap did, that he had sacrificed his life in the hopes that they may escape.

At this realization, his mother chocked back a sob, and a more steel like expression took over, her face contorted into seriousness as she took hold of Sapnap’s hand, her other hand brandishing the sword that was next to the one his father took.

She looked down at Sapnap, and through the seriousness that had taken over her form, he saw the fear and apprehension in her eyes, but before he could say anything they were running, his mother never letting go of his hand as she ran away from their home. The home he had grown up in.

They ran for miles upon miles, and finally, when they had nearly reached a village, his mother let go of his hand.

“Sapnap, go to that village, go to safety,” his mother said, her breath short and rasped as she kneeled down, her chest heaving from the strain of running.

Sapnap looked at her, before looking at the village, and finally he uttered a small question.

“Why aren’t you coming with me?” his voice was strained, short and puffy breaths escaped him, and as his mother looked up at him, he realized why she wasn’t coming with him.

An arrow sat right in her back, in the middle and even Sapnap, with his limited medical knowledge, knew that he couldn’t remove the arrow without causing his mother more pain.

Causing more blood to stain her beautiful blue dress.

A skeleton must have shot her when they had been running, and through the adrenaline, his mother must’ve not realized, or she did, and she just didn’t tell Sapnap, in fear that he might slow down to accommodate her, and if that didn’t hurt his heart, the heart wrenching cry his mother led out would’ve.

Before he could even react, his mother slumped down on the ground, the sword that had stayed in her hand the entire time falling with her, and Sapnap watched in horror as his mother’s eyes closed, he watched in horror as her body ceased to move, and he realized in horror that his mother wasn’t breathing anymore.

He realized with horror that his mother was dead.

||

Sapnap dragged his feet into the village, his body tired and his mind broken from what he had witnessed. His hand clenched around the sword he had taken from his mother’s hand; her other hand clenched the white ribbon that his mother had used to tie her dress. It had no blood on it, and Sapnap wondered how that was possible.

He walked aimlessly into the village, pain smearing its broken form over his body as he trudged in. The villagers looked on as he moved, some moving closer to guide him to the medic, soft hands moving his body as he followed, to out of it to understand what was going on.

His feet gave out as he was laid on a bed, his eyes closing from the exhaustion that crashed over him, and before he realized it, his mind was somewhere else, somewhere that wasn’t in the village, yet not in his home either, no, he was thrown into the void, no dreams thinking to appear as he fell asleep.

Before he was fully asleep, he muttered a small sentence, followed by a humorless chuckle.

“Only 10 years old, and already an orphan, huh.”


	2. Lost Poet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A winter village filled with towers going to the sun, a mother and a child out on an errand-run.
> 
> A monster with lanky and gangly limbs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's chapter two!! I hope you enjoy!!

Silken words flowed through the vast towers of the city, small oxen-like creatures mingled in between the inhabitants of the city, their fur long and snowy as they walked on the frozen ground. People walked around, stopping at shops and glancing into bookstores. Their clothes were primarily blue, with small accents of white, and most peoples’ hair was white or fair in some other way. Only the few had darker hair, but these people still tended to be bright haired.

One woman, her hair flowing down to her mid-waist, had stark brown hair, and in the minimal sun, it looked almost black. Her eyes where brown, and they glistened as she walked past ice, the light recasting into the brown.

She wore a light blue dress, covered in furs from head to toe, and her pants where fluffy, warm and comfortable, her boots tough and worn. Blue ribbons ran down her hair, some twisted into strands and braided into beautiful mixtures of black and blue.

In her hand was her spear, a hunting spear she didn’t use to hunt, but rather to move the oxen-like creatures away so that she may pass.

In her other hand was a smaller glove.

The glove was connected to the hand of a small child, his clothes wrapping around him almost like a boa constrictor trying to choke him, but the child was perfectly capable of breathing, his face being able to peak over the mountain of cloth and fur.

“mum, where are we going?” the small voice of the child spoke, his words slightly muffled by the abundance of fur in his face, his mother looked down to him, her eyes kind in a way only mothers’ eyes are, as she said where they are going.

“We’re going to the parchment shop, darling, we’re out of paper, do you not remember?” she asked softly, her voice graceful and kind, and the child only hummed in response as they arrived at the large shop that sold the papers.

The building is tall, towering over the pair as they look inside, the doors are wide open, covered in blue and turquoise markings. The light coming from inside spills out onto the ice and snow that covers the ground, and with a slight tug at his hand, the small boy follows his mother inside.

The warmth quickly envelops him as he goes past the doors, the sound of magic sounding throughout the whole shop as it warms it up. He moves to take off his topcoat, his mother stopping him, he looks up confused and stops dead in his tracks when he sees the look on his mother’s face.

Her face is contorted in fear, and when he looks forward again, he understands why she stopped.

In front of him is a large monster thing that he has never seen before.

And that monster had just bitten off the head of the clerk.

||

He was running, running faster than he had ever done before, and he only knew he was running from the way his breath came out quick and sharp. He still held his mother’s hand; the comforting feeling of her hand was what kept him slightly focused on what was happening.

His feet thumped on the frozen ground, his eyes darted around as they looked for some where they could escape to, but they came up empty. His breathing rose to an even messier form, his body not getting enough air as he continued to run. With a sudden tug at his hand, he turned around, only to watch in horror as he looked at his mother.

“Mum!” a cry ripped out of him as he saw his mother’s body crumble beneath her feet, her hand falling from his grip. The way her hair fell with her seemed almost majestic, the loose ribbons flowing in the air as gravity took its hold on his mother’s body.

And as if in slow motion, the mangled monster appeared behind his mother’s crumbled body, it’s jaw wide open and ready to decapitate her if she didn’t move soon. Its skin was coal black, and its body was long and gangly, and if George over-analyzed it a little too much, he’d say the monster looked almost starved, the way its bones and ribs stood out on the tight skin.

He looked away when the monster looked up, his eyes immediately going to where his mother was, laying on the ground, her body almost limp.

He watched as his mother grabbed something in her pocket, but before she could bring it to her face the creature grabbed her body, and with horror his mother yelled out one last thing.

“George!”

||

The sound of a still body hitting the ground could be heard, and George watched as crimson ribbons pooled below the body. The monster had moved on, teleporting away quickly, and there George sat on the ground, silent tears flowing down his face.

People seemed to finally understand what happened, and most moved to look closer at the body, some moving closer to him, asking if he were okay, but he heard nothing.

He could only hear the fear in his mother’s voice as she called out his name, her voice straining and breaking as he cried out. George could only see the way the beast had closed its jaw, forceful and precise, before letting the body fall to the ground, disappearing before George could do anything.

With a mangled cry, he moved over to where his mother was, crawling pathetically until he was beside her. He cried as he saw the way loose hair strands outlined the body, he cried as he saw the beautiful blue color turn dark, and he cried as he realized that he’d never see his mother’s beautiful eyes again.

He realized after that that he’d never hear her beautiful voice either.

And as his loud cries rang out through the city, he didn’t realize the way that more and more people seemed to be missing, almost like they were taken away. He didn’t realize the distant screams of other people; he didn’t realize when the uncomfortable stench of iron filled the area around him.

He didn’t realize the purple particles that swam in and out of his vision.

He didn’t realize when he was alone in the city, surrounded by blood and headless bodies.

He only realized the feeling of googles sitting overtop his eyes, his tears making the glass foggy.

He only realized that his name hadn’t been his last words, no, her last words had been a spell, a spell that he knew she knew by heart.

The spell of being safe from the purple eyes and black jaws.

He moved a little, his body straining as he stood up, and with an unfocused glance he looked at the wreckage around him. He moved away, but not before taking a small piece of the fabric his mother had weaved into her hair.

And with a grim sort of acceptance, he tied the ribbon around his arm, and moved down the mountain side.

His heart hurt too much to stay in the cold, so with quiet and small steps he made his way towards the greener woods that could be seen from the top of the many towers.

“I’m sorry mum,” a quiet voice said, a sadness tilted in it, a sadness that had no right being in an 8-year old’s voice, “I’m sorry I didn’t react sooner.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's gogy... Sorry...
> 
> I liked writing this chapter, but I kept getting distracted, but I hope you guys like it!!
> 
> Word Count: 1248


	3. Lost King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small child born into royalty, a weird curse that ages as we speak.
> 
> A mask worn to protect the one under it.
> 
> A memory we will soon forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So here's this chapter! It's longer than the other ones cause I had a lot of ideas, so I hope you enjoy !!
> 
> Word count: 2579

Crystalline flooring spanned over the whole ground, shimmering with purple particles that floated about, like small children or elderly woman out on a calm errand-run. Overtop the glittering floor was a glass roof, making the blue and purple sky light up the room with the constellations of stars.

Servants moved around the grounds, their silken clothes thin and pristine, tightfitting in some places and loose in others. Fabric seemed to be woven with the air itself in the way it billowed behind the people, the line between fabric and air was almost indiscernible, but that was what comes from fabric lighter and thinner than even fairy feather.

The clothes were in various colors, yet always in some form of pastel. In the fine golden hair of the residents was glimmering silver band, and in front sitting on the temple of the band was a beautiful gem. Every band had a different gem, some had yellow topaz, others green emeralds, some even had the blue shine of diamonds.

But it was only royals who had the pristine purple-ish gem, netherite.

For the royal bands there was woven flowers and symbols, multiple smaller gems next to larger ones, and in the center, like all other bands, was a large gemstone, cut to perfection. The silver of the bands glistened next to the gems, and the small flowers woven out of the silver had small intricate designs.

One such band lay in a glass box, the most intricate designs yet were engraved and woven into the silver, the netherite gems gleaming in an extraordinary purple, and if one looked closer one would be able to see green glimmers as well.

The flowers resembled those of begonias, asters and gladiolus’, and if one looked close enough, one would see the small threads of copper and gold, intricately woven into the petals of the flowers. The band was beautiful, and it was made for the royal newborn.

You see, the queen had given birth, and the country was in a state of joy, a weeklong party and celebration had been held, and now, about a month later, it was time for the child to be named and crowned.

||

Crying was heard from inside the large room, the cries small yet loud enough to be heard from the hall just beyond the large dark-oaken door. Inside there was a small child, body pale and freckled and hair blond, like a morning in the snow, the thin hairs on the head are soft to the touch and the child’s eyes are a brilliant green, greener than the shiniest emerald, and livelier than the youngest breeze.

The child is held in the arms of a woman, her hair long and golden as it falls at her waist, while some of it is gathered in a bun at the back. A soft humming is coming from the woman, her voice silky and sweet as she slowly rocks the child back and forth, her body swaying with her movements.

The child slowly stops crying, its eyes looking up at the woman as she sways around the room, her thin and soft dress swaying the same way she does. The light that shines through the large windows that line the room catches on the fabric, making it shift through the rainbow’s colors.

The large oaken doors open up after a while, a frantic looking servant standing in the doorway, their expression grim and scared as they look at the woman and the child. The woman immediately stops swaying, turning to the servant and in a soft yet commanding tone, she asks what’s wrong.

“My lady, the king has asked for you in the throne room,” the servant says, their voice slightly panicked and cautious as they make way for the woman to leave the room. The lady moves quickly, tightening her hold on the child slightly, and as she walks her hair flows behind her, looking in the sunbeams like a million golden ribbons.

Her face is set in stone as she walks through the halls, the servants that walk their move out of her way, and the child in her arms looks on as the beams of sun flitter through the glass roof, making the floor shine like dragonfly’s wings.

“Open the doors to the throne room,” the lady says, her voice steely as she moves through the now open door, and there, in front of her stands the king, his face weary and sunken, a confusing sadness outlining his face. The mans body seems weak, frail and old, and the lady gasps in surprise when she sees him.

She moves quick, nearly running to the king as she kneels down to him, the child still safely gathered in her arms, and in a quiet voice she asks:

“My beloved, what has happened?” her voice is hurried, and concern clearly laces her words as she brings a free hand up to caress the king’s cheek.

“magic my dear, magic,” the king’s voice is calm, scared and quiet, “dark magic that ages one, and with fear I will say it is the water, the water has been poisoned, and we will all grow old, old and broken and frail,” the king says, and with a sudden realization the woman’s face changes from concern to fear as she brings her hand to her mouth.

And almost like a dramatic theater play, as she brings her hand back down, she sees darkened spots, and with a renewed fear she reaches for her hair and sees as it slowly turns pale white and grey, and with horror she realizes that she, too, is growing old.

“Our child, what will happen to our child?!” she yells, fear lacing her words, and as she sees the regret in her husband’s eyes, she feels the tears fill her eyes as she too realizes what is going to happen to her child, and with a last-ditch effort, her body already growing tired from where her bones are weak and her muscles old, she reaches into her bag at her side, and out she brings a mask.

It’s a pale mask, white porcelain covered in intricate carvings inside, and with a hand she touches the front, and with the last bit of strength in her voice, she chants a spell.

“let this mask be your nutrients, let this mask be your eyes, and let this mask be your guiding hand as I leave. Trust in its guidance, trust in its hide, and promise me that you will never die.”

With a purple light the mask glows, and after only a second it is white again, and with soft, old hands, the woman puts the mask on the child’s face, and with a sudden cry she looks towards where a servant, a servant who has not yet gone old, and with a beckoning hand she hands over the child to the servant.

“I beg you, take this child to a village, take him to a place where he will be safe, and make it so he will grow up healthy and happy, I beg you, please,” the woman says, and as she falls to the ground, her body growing to old and weak to keep her up any longer, she reaches for the child’s hand for one more moment, kissing it before letting it go.

The servant does nothing more than nod before turning and getting ready to leave the castle grounds, and just as she reaches the tall, large, open doors of the throne room, she hears the sudden yell of her queen.

“Name him Dream, please make sure he knows his name is Dream, I beg you,” and that’s the last the servant hears from the queen, as she looks back, she sees the queens limp body, and with a sudden sadness the servant leaves, taking a horse from the stables, and as quickly as she is able, she is out of the guarding walls of the kingdom.

||

The servant reaches an abandoned cabin in a forest, and after checking that no one was hidden or that it was a trap, she decides this will be where the child will have to stay. She steps of the horse, keeping the child close to her chest as she moves into the cabin, and with a small sigh of luck she sees that there is firewood near the fireplace, and quickly she ignites it, leaning close but not too close, so that the child can get some warmth.

“Young prince, it seems your kingdom has been taken away from your hands,” the servant says, her voice solemn and quiet and soon she begins humming, slowly swaying so that the child may fall asleep.

Though the servant’s hair isn’t fair like the queens, and her voice might not be as gentle, but her eyes were soft and calm and as the child looked at her, eyes drooping behind the mask, she realized that she would protect this child with her own life if need be.

||

“Memory? Mrs. Memory?” a small voice calls out, an underlining of caution and confusion wrapping around the words as the small child that the voice came from looks around.

“Memory? Are you inside?” the voice asks, and with small steps the child nears the door to the cabin, and before the child can open the door, he in the air.

“ah!”

“I got you!” a voice laughs, gentle and joyous as the lady where the voice comes from swings the child around. Laughter fills the small area around the cabin, and from an outside perspective one might say it looked like a mother and her child having a play-fight.

“Set me down!” the child laughs, his voice giddy and happy as he finally feels his feet landing on the firm ground once again. The laughter quiets a little, and with a soft smile the lady looks at the child, her voice soft as she speaks:

“You have your mother’s laugh, and your father’s caution.”

The child looks up, and even from the mask covering his face, she can still feel the frown that must cover the child’s face currently.

“How were my parents?” the child asks, his voice timid and small as he glances down at his feet, his shoes slightly digging into the ground as he waits for the lady to speak.

“They were kind, and generous, and would give everything to help those they loved,” the lady said, her voice laced with some sort of nostalgia as she remembered her kind rulers.

She hadn’t told the child that he was royal, the fear of him going back and seeing his parents’ corpse’s and being traumatized holding her back. She sighed before bending down to the boy’s level, and with a steady hand she graced the small sliver of skin that wasn’t covered by the mask.

“Let’s stop talking about this, alright? It’s getting late, we should start making supper, don’t you think?” When she receives a small nod, she moved into the cabin, opening the door so that the child could come in as well.

They went about making food as normal, eating as normal, and then falling asleep as normal. The night was calm, the only sound being the small stream of water that ran near the cabin, and other than that one could hear the crickets and animals that rustled and hunted at night.

||

Sleep came easily to the child, and just like his name might suggest, he had vivid dreams, and one such dream managed to wake him up.

“Memory? Are you awake?” he called out, his voice muffled with the lingering affects of sleep, his hair was wild, longer than what he normally had it, but they hadn’t cut it in some time, so it had grown longer.

“Memory?” the child called out, his voice wavering slightly at the lack of reply from his caretaker, and with slow movements he got out of his small bed, and quietly he made his way over to the doors leading into Memory’s room.

He knocked slightly, not to loud, but enough to be heard from the other side. When there was no answer, he slightly opened the door so he could peek inside, and with a startled scream he saw the elderly body of what used to be his young caretaker.

He stepped back out of fear, and with a sudden feeling of dread he realized he couldn’t hear Memory’s breathing. Before he realized it, he was running away from the door, but before he left the small cabin he stopped in front of the front door, and with tears running down his face he ripped the dark forest green cloak that Memory owned and continued running out of the cabin, not looking back as he took the horse they had and rode away from the woods, heading towards the small village they would sometimes go to when they needed ingredients or materials.

He rode long into the night, the sun slowly rising as he cried silently. Logically he knew he probably should’ve stayed near Memory for a while longer to make sure she was actually dead, but he was too scared to.

Many hours seemed to pass by where he just rode around, not having an exact destination since he had passed the village long ago, only to find them asleep, and in fear of bothering them he had left. Now he just aimlessly rode around, sometimes getting off the horse so that it didn’t overexert itself.

Sure, he might be in his feels right now, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to make his horse suffer.

He rode along the tree lines, the sand dunes and the ocean linings, and just as he was about to turn his horse so that it went another way, he heard the small voices of a village not far away.

He turned so that the horse would walk that way, and through the forest bushes he could see a small village-like town with multiple people and residents, and with a sigh he realized he may have a place to rest.

He rode into the village, getting of his horse before tying it to a pole, and then he made his way over to some of the buildings, the large (way too large) cloak he had on dragging against the dirt as he stopped in front of what looked to be some sort of church.

“Hello? Is anyone in here?” he asked, his voice loud enough to be heard even from the second story of the small church-like building, and just as he was about to turn around after no answer a man came down from the ladder in the building and reached out his hand.

“’ello young boy, you seem to ’ave come from far away, you don’t look like any of the ones who come from around here,” the man said, his voice gruff and tired, and he sympathized a little with him when he realized the man also hadn’t gotten all that much sleep.

“Excuse me, is it possible that I could stay here for the night? I will pay in labor for a bed and some warm food,” he said, his voice still timid but confident in the way he knew the man most likely wouldn’t say no.

“Well, sure kid, I’ll see if I can use your help for somethin’, what’s yer name?”

“My names Dream.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So that's Dream !! 
> 
> To be honest, I'm not all that happy with the ending, but I'll just have to live with it.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it, and if you want then please leave a comment !! I would love to hear Y'all's thoughts !!


	4. Lahret Village

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys meet y'all

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So so sososososos sorry this took so long, hopefully i can redeem myself with the lenght of this chapter!!
> 
> Hope you enjoy readin it!

A soft breeze ruffled the stark-black hair, curling and pulling it almost like it wanted the boy to follow where the wind led him, but he held steadfast onto the ground as he moved to sit down on the gigantic cliff. His feet dangled over the cliffside, his shoelaces coming untied by the strong winds cascading onto his form.

A sigh rang out from him, his lips rising up into a smile as he looked into the horizon, his eyes casting over every treetop and river stream that was visible from his perch.

This was his favorite place to sit and just relax when he found the time, the sounds of trees being ruffled and of the grass being swayed by the wind always calmed his heart. His days were always packed full of tasks and small jobs that he had to fulfill, but when the time arose where he had nothing to tend to, one would always find him sitting on the cliff overlooking the large forest that surrounded the small village.

Soft leaves flew past him in a flurry of movement as the wind once again tried to lift anything it could get it grabs on; the leaves danced in front of his vision for a short time before they went cascading softly down the cliff-side.

Minutes seemed to pass like seconds, yet at the same time it seemed like hours as he just sat and stared out into the forest ahead of him, a small voice in his head telling him to go out there; explore and achieve and find, but the more rational part of his brain stopped him, keeping him firmly planted on the ground.

A whistle startled him out of his quiet calmness, the sound loud and clear among the otherwise quiet area; he knew that whistle, and with a soft sigh he rose to his feet and began gathering his things that lay strewn about.

“Time to go back to work,” he softly said to himself, his voice carrying a sort of quiet sadness, a sadness not entirely ready to make one cry, but a sadness that left one slightly numb and disoriented.

His eyes looked back one last time at the forest, the green leaves covering so much that only small slivers of ground could be seen, and with a wistful sadness he turned around and began heading down to the small village at the foot of the cliff.

||

The small tingling brushes of the leaves caused a shiver to run down his back, his large hood protecting his face but not his arms from the onslaught of tickling leaves as he walked through the densely packed forest. His body moved in a slow, rhythmic way, his legs seeming to dance almost as they landed on the ground, crunching up small sticks and grinding against the small stones that littered the ground.

His hand was gripping a notepad of some sort, one could almost call it a book, but the way it was bound and the way it looked would deter any further insistence on its book-like appearance. In his other hand was a pen, a small pen made by tying a piece of coal to a small yet sturdy stick.

The pen tapped against the side of the notepad, a small grumble coming from the man as he stepped away from some bigger stones on the path, his eyes never leaving the pages of short words and phrases as he kept tapping the side of the notepad.

“That line doesn’t work… maybe if I switched it with ‘quiet somber widow’ instead of ‘quiet lovely widow’?”

Scrapping could be heard as the pen moved to cross out the sentence, then being replaced by the new one, before a grumble could be heard again.

“No! Now it doesn’t match with the other lines,” a grumble mixed with a groan rang out as the man shut his notepad, his fingers expertly bringing the small bundle of paper into the small pouch at his side, his other hand quickly putting away the pen as well as he moved on, his feet carrying him forwards in its never-ending dance.

As his feet carried him on his hand came to tug at his large cloak, covering his arms so that they were no longer at the hands of the bustling leaves, only his fingertips being available for the leaves to touch. The cloak swayed slightly in the wind, not long enough to touch the ground, but long enough for some of the more bumpy and large stones to grab at the fabric.

Sometimes he would have to tug on the large piece of fabric before he could continue walking, but it was nothing more than a slight annoyance, his rational brain liking the idea of warmth and protection much more than the slight relief of not having to slightly tug every now and again.

His footsteps echo throughout the forest, the only other sounds being that of the scattered creatures that reside in the woodlands, and before one would know it the footsteps stop; the body making them stopping as well as it looks over towards his destination.

“Guess I’ve arrived… Lahret village,” he said, his voice carrying through the air into the wind as it swirled around him, shifting the cloak behind him as he once again began moving.

And behind white and black goggles, brown and blue eyes looked at the rusty village sign, the gaze strong and calculated.

“Lahret village, hope you have some good supplies, for else all this would’ve been in vain,” he says, his footsteps crunching as he walks up the path to the village, moving forwards into the village.

||

“Stop right there you thief!”

“Gah! someone, anyone, teach that child some manners!”

“One of your horses should give that child a kick in the face for his insolence!”

“That child is a nightmare!”

“Get a grip on your son mister!”

“Of all these complaints, the one tha’ makes me most uncomfortable is the one wher’ your’ me son.”

“That stings old man, that stings,” a young voice, shielded with careful diligence and joy wrapped in faux shock and hurt, springs from the mouth not seen. A laugh is heard, an older man standing by the youngers side, his face littered with various scars from monsters they couldn’t fight of early in their travels.

“Anyways, where even are we Mr. Lion?”

“My names Portley, kid, ya’ know this,” a sigh followed by a soft fond chuckle, “an’ we’re in Lahret village, kid,” the man said, his gruff voice sounding almost reminiscent and nostalgic at the name of the village.

The younger boy studied the older man, his face hidden behind the white mask, looking for any sign of recognition in the older man’s eyes, and when he saw what he was looking for he turned, looking at the streets of the small village.

The village wasn’t small per se, but it wasn’t large either, the houses that lined the streets were tall and old, clearly built many years prior to the current day. Some houses had a small alleyway in them, and if he looked closely enough, he’d see the small signs of critters and cats living in the shadow.

The people that milled around in the village were of different backgrounds, that was for sure. Some of the people wore extravagant clothes that could rival even royals, while others wore tattered and beaten clothes, almost like the rats in the alleys had eaten through the fabric.

He wouldn’t be surprised if that were what had happened.

Along the streets, multiple small stalls were open as people mingled about, looking at overpriced cloths and food. He knew it was overpriced, he himself overpriced his own wares, everyone did that, even the people who supposedly had the cheapest wares, everything was overpriced.

‘Money comes first’ was a quote his mentor had taught him from the very first day.

He couldn’t really agree, but he’d learned that because of the wares being overpriced, it was much easier to just… steal the stuff you wanted.

Which is one the reasons as to why he had been yelled at already, sadly, he had been caught trying to steal a piece of silk that he could surely sell for an even better price, but before he had even touched the fabric multiple people had shouted at him.

He now stood by his mentors’ side, looking at the village and giving small hesitant waves to those who threw him evil stares.

“I’m goin’ to set up our stall, you go hav’ fun, aight?” Mr. Portley said, and in a flourish the young boy was gone, immediately running over to the valleys in between the grand houses.

Running had always been an integral part in his life, even if he sometimes had to stop running and settle down, but his running didn’t have to stop currently as he weaved his way through the alleyways, jumping over fallen trash and filth that hadn’t been cleaned.

He jumped and ran until he was met with a sudden incline towards a hill, something he hadn’t been expecting whilst running around in alleyways. He stopped at the sight, confusion clouding his mind for a short time as he just looks at where there should’ve probably been a wall. Before long he made up his mind and decided to follow this new path into the open, and with one final jump over a piece of trash, he was out.

The breeze of none compressed air ruffled his hair as he made his way through the dense grass, his mask protecting his face from the leaves and branches that came from some trees that littered the small hill. He moved quickly but silently, not wanting his mentor to see him seemingly leave the village and call him back.

Not long after he had begun walking up the hill, he stopped at the sight in front of him. A hill had led him to a wonderful cliff, the cliff looking out upon a forest full of life, life hidden behind bundles of leaves, and with a startle he realized that his mind was telling him to run, to run into the forest and discover something new.

He sat down at the end of the cliff, his legs dangling out over the drop, and with a small smile hidden by a white mask he realized that this was what he had needed for so long.

“A chance to calm your mind”

He startled, quickly turning around to see a boy most likely around his age. The boy was wearing a type of bandana, his hair was dark, darker than any other hair he had ever seen before, and with another startle he realized that he had been staring.

“Uh, yeah, yeah exactly, uhm… who are you?” He asked, his body was still riding high on the adrenaline of being sneaked up upon, something that usually didn’t happen.

“I’m Sapnap! You?” The boy asked, his face split into a large grin as he looked at him, and with a small shy rub at his neck he said:

“My names Dream”

||

That’ll be 5 emeralds good sir,” a feminine voice told him as he pulled out the said number of emeralds, handing them to the lady before taking his product and turning to leave.

He moved his feet in a pattern, one foot up, the other down, one foot up, the other down. Again, and again, he moved like this until he neared what looked like the path to a hill, and with a sigh he decided to take a small break.

He turned and began walking towards the path, his feet hitting the gravel of the village changing to hit against trampled ground. His cloak billowed slightly behind him as he moved, his hands wringing into his cloth.

His eyes wandered as he looked at the grass around him, it was much greener than the grass surrounding the village, and with a small smile he realized that that meant the hill wasn’t visited often, it wasn’t used by other people most likely.

He hurried a little faster as he came to this realization, wanting to be alone for at least a small bit now that he’d been surrounded by villagers and other people for so long. He hurried up the hill and stopped with a sudden sad sound as he saw two other boys on the hill.

Before he could even think to turn around and leave the hill, one of the boys turned to him and raised their hand in a kind gesture. He sighed before making his way over to the other boys, his mood turning slightly sour at the fact that he wasn’t going to get the peace he had wanted.

“Hey! What’s your name?” one of the boys asked, his hair was slightly pushed back by a white piece of fabric, his eyes were dark, and his clothes weren’t the best, tatters and rips outlining the fabric in worn places.

The other boy didn’t say anything, just waved at him and then looked over to where the dark-haired boy stood.

“Hey, I asked what your name is, it’s pretty rude not to answer, ya’ know?” The dark-haired boy said, his voice sounded almost irritated by his lack of response.

“It’s also pretty rude for you to expect me to answer you, isn’t it?” He asked sarcastically, his eyes rolling in faux annoyance as the boy in front of him huffed in his own annoyance.

“Well, it’s also rude to just stand there and stare, isn’t it, pretty boy?”

“Did you just call me pretty boy?”

“Yeah ‘cause that’s what ya’ are isn’t it? Just a pretty boy who stares at others.”

“I’m honored that you think I’m pretty, must be hard having to admit to something you yourself lack.”

“Oh, now you’ve done it- “

“Both of you. Stop.” A new voice cut in; it was from the boy who hadn’t said anything earlier. His voice was slightly muffled from the mask that donned his face; an almost creepy smile having been carved into the object.

“Hi, my names Dream, that idiot over there is Sapnap, may I ask what your name is?” The boy asked, his voice much gentler in his question compared to the other boy, Sapnap, who was in front of him. He sighed before loosening his shoulders, not noticing how pent up he had been when yelling at Sapnap.

“I’m George,” he said simply, not in the mood to try and be overly polite. The boy, now know as Dream, nodded, not seeming to mind George’s mood.

“Why’d you answer him but not me?! And fuck you Dream for calling me an idiot!” Sapnap said indignantly, his voice rising slightly again but he lowers it when he meets what could only be called a deadpan gesture coming from Dream.

“He probably answered me ‘cause I asked nicely, and you’re clearly an idiot, don’t see what’s wrong in my statement,” Dream said, his voice could be mistaken as bored and tired, but even George, who hadn’t known the other for more than a few minutes, could hear the underlining of laughter he was trying to hold in.

Sapnap makes an offended noise, and George can’t help the small chuckle he lets out, Sapnap immediately turns to him and looks even more offended, and before he knows it, George is laughing louder than he has in a while.

It seems Sapnap can’t really stay mad as he himself chuckles a little bit, and from where he still sits Dream also lets out a few chuckles.

After a while they calmed down, and George looked up when he saw Sapnap make a gesture, almost like he was inviting him to stay with him and Dream atop the hill, and with a weird urge in his heart he decided that that was exactly what he was going to do.

He sat down near them and they all fell into a light conversation, the words flowing with ease between them as if this were destined to be.

||

A few days had passed, and every night without fail the three boys would meet up at the top of the hill, and each night with fail they would all be caught up in calm conversation until the only light that shone was that of the moon high above them.

Dream liked these nights, they were calm and fun, and he felt like he finally had friends, the first friends he’s ever had (of course if you exclude Memory and the old man).

But Dream was growing weary. He wanted to stay here and be with George and Sapnap, but he knew that him and his mentor had to leave soon, but he also wanted to explore the forest below them, he wanted to explore what was hidden behind the brilliant greens of the trees below the cliff.

He wanted to explore, and he wanted to do that with his friends.

He sighed as he laid tiredly in his bed, him and his mentor had been able to rent out a small inn room for the days they’d been staying at the village, and with a sad look he glanced at his stuff that was packed neatly in a singular travel-bag.

It was early in the morning, earlier than he would usually wake up, but he had to find the others before it was to late for him to say goodbye.

With a great effort he heaved himself up from his bed, his shoulders slumping in his effort to put a smile on his face, because sure, no one could _see_ his face, but both George and Sapnap had some uncanny way of knowing his true emotions and thoughts. 

He slowly put on his clothes, his green tunic-type shirt was darker than usual due to the weird humidity that Lahret village had, and his pants weren’t special other than the slight silver-like swirling pattern that rose up from the bottom of them.

He grabbed the long cloak he had from the crook it hung from, it was a much darker green than his shirt, and it almost bordered unto blue when I was wet. The hood’s rim had the same silver-like swirls that his pants had, and the trim at the bottom of the cloak was covered as well.

On the back was what looked to be a crest, but Dream remembers how Memory had told him it was purely just a beautiful swirl of silver.

He slowly made his way to the door of their room, and quickly grabbed his shoes and put them on, and soon enough he was out in the quiet early morning streets. He sighed lowly before making his way over to the hill.

He had the night before requested that they all meet up at the hill early in the morning, the others had looked slightly confused but had agreed nonetheless, intrigued by what was so important it couldn’t be said in the night.

Before he knew it, he was stood at the hill, the other two already being there, having their own quiet conversation.

Dream stood still for a moment, just taking in the sight of the two having a civilized conversation. Some might’ve believed that from their first meeting they’d constantly argue, but surprisingly they got along very well, sure they argued sometimes, but it was all in good fun, never anything truly harmful.

With a sigh he realized that he’d have to break the calm atmosphere, so with a heavy whispered curse at himself he made his presence known, waving at the two others before making his way over to them.

“Good morning Dream, how’d you sleep?” George asked and Dream made a so-so gesture with his hand.

“What’d you wanna talk about?” Sapnap asked, George hissed a little at him for not being more subtle, but Dream didn’t blame him, only slightly chuckling at Sapnap’s brashness.

Before he could fall to far into the calm atmosphere around them, he schooled himself, sighing a heavy sigh as he looked up at the others.

“I’m leaving the town soon, my mentor has done his business her so now where moving on to the next town,” he said with a heavy tone, trying his best to make sure they heard his hatred at the thought of leaving them.

He looked on sadly as a dark shadow crossed over Sapnap’s face, and a sad frown found its way onto Georges face.

“Do you _have_ to?” Sapnap asked, his voice softer and quieter than ever before, and Dream could only nod as he looked down to the ground, his feet shuffling a little as he felt scrutinized under the other two’s gazes.

“No no, Dream, I mean; do you _have_ to? Do you have some form of obligation to your mentor?” Sapnap asked again, his voice slightly louder.

Dream looked up as he thought, and with shock he realized something.

“No, I don’t. I- I could probably just ask him to let me stay here.”

“Then do that! We could all, I don’t know, leave! We could explore together! Go to the forest like we’ve contemplated for so long! Let’s leave!”

It was George who yelled, startling both Sapnap and Dream as they looked at him, Sapnap with wide eyes and Dream showed his shock by tensing his shoulders. George looked at them with an almost giddy smile on his face as he threw back his arm in a flurry.

“We could all just… Explore! See the world!” He said, his voice calmer than before but still loud enough to be carried down the wind and echo against the stone beneath their feet.

Before long Sapnap had his own large grin in place, seemingly in agreement with George’s suggestion, and as one they both turned to Dream, identical grins on their faces as he stared right back at them.

“My backpack is already packed, and I know for a fact that Sapnap has all his valuables in his purse, and I’m guessing you have your stuff packed already, so what’s stopping us from leaving now?” George said giddily, his grin spreading even wider as both him and Sapnap waited for Dreams response.

Dream smiled behind his mask, his grin most likely matching the others before he gave a gesture telling the others to wait before he sprinted towards the inn he had been staying at.

||

“Old man! Old man! Wake up!”

“What do ‘ya want?”

“I’m leaving on an adventure! Thank you for letting me stay with you these last few years, now bye!” Dream yelled as he grabbed his bag from where it was in the room and promptly sprinting out of the room, leaving the old man to look at him with a shocked expression.

The shocked expression melted away to show a fond one, his eyes crinkling a little as he smiled.

“Well, hows about that huh, leavin’ me alone,” the old man said, sounding fond as he looked out the door to where Dream was running off.

||

“I’m back! I’ve got my stuff, we can go!” Dream yelled, Sapnap and George perking up at the sound of his voice, and an excited glance they both register what Dream said.

“Wait, you mean we can go now?!” Sapnap asked excitedly, jumping up from where he sat on the ground, George quickly following. They both ran over to Dream once he nodded, hugging him to the ground as they all laughed, excitement overflowing within them.

“Wait, shit, that means I have to get my own bag!” George yelled after a moment, quickly detangling himself from where they were all laying on the ground in a happy pile. Dream and Sapnap laughed as George hurriedly ran to get his bag, and before long they were all on their way down to the forest below the cliff.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank y'all so much for reading!!!  
> sorry again for the lack of uploads, but i hope you liked this chapter! It was supposed to be longer, but i decided to cut it in half, so yeah,,,, hope y'all enjoyed this!
> 
> Total word count: 4001

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this far!! 
> 
> Word count: 1520


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